


Paradox Effect

by steelguardin



Category: Final Fantasy XII, Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Balthier is Really Bad at Feelings, Crossover, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, M/M, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelguardin/pseuds/steelguardin
Summary: "How many times must I say this? The leading man doesn't need a sidekick.""And the hero doesn't need one, either."--Once more, Balthier finds himself caught in a war between the gods and their pawns.





	1. for whom the bell tolls

As Vaan said, Giruvegan was a bust. All that time wasted chasing could-be’s and maybe’s… It was no wonder that Balthier felt weary, and ended up escaping to the Strahl. Following Cid’s trail was enough to put him on edge, and to learn that it was only more or less a game to the old man? It made him wonder—was this really all worth it?

To be sure, the princess had her heart in the right place. “Save Dalmasca” were often the only words sprouting from her lips these days, but the occasional “the Empire will know remorse” lingered on Balthier’s mind as well. _She is different_ , he had to remind himself. _Ashe isn’t him_. Him, being his own father. A once great mind poisoned by the lust for power, greatness… Would Ashe fall as far as he did, or further? At the moment, it was unclear.

Nothing felt right after Giruvegan. Everyone had their own agenda, a plan they kept to themselves until the time was right. Balthier had hoped that when he revealed his past to Ashe, she would have learned that the path she walked would be her demise. But, he supposed his words only fell on deaf ears. She simply did not care. Perhaps she was simply too far gone.

Now she had them chasing yet _another_ lead. Still following Cid’s trail. Still lusting for the nethicite’s power.

“So this is how a sky pirate wastes his time?”

Damn it all—he should have known someone would find him there. That someone just had to be _her_ , of course. It was as if his thoughts had called out to her and beckoned her to the ship. She may have very well been there to tell him to get a move on and head for the Pharos. Unfortunately, their trip depended on whether he could get that sky stone to work; ships couldn’t fly in Jagd, and he didn’t want to see his girl at the bottom of the ocean.

“I am not wasting my time,” Balthier grumbled. “If I were, I wouldn’t be here.”

Ashe made a tutting sound. “So what is it you’re doing?”

“Ensuring the safety of my ship.”

“And not the safety of our comrades?”

“A very close second.” He paused. “Ah, third. Fran takes precedence, I’m afraid.”

“I should not be so surprised, yet here I am.”

“You could be elsewhere instead.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her around. Quite the contrary, actually; he enjoyed her company when she wasn’t muttering about revenge, or barking orders like she ruled the place. Balthier paused and set his wrench down. Well, she wasn’t a queen yet, but someday she would rule her kingdom, be it Dalmasca or all of Ivalice… depending on what choice she made in the end.

“Did the dear captain send you?” Balthier asked.

“Even if Basch did, he’s just as concerned as I am for our cause… and you. You seemed anxious today, Balthier.”

He snorted. “No more than usual.”

“Reddas assured us the sky stone would fit the Strahl,” Ashe said. He felt her shoulder press against him as she sat down at his side. He quickly moved away. “So why are you being so careful?”

“A second look never hurts.”

“You’ve been in here for hours.”

“Is it so wrong for a man to spend a few hours alone?” he finally snapped. Ashe didn’t flinch, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “In his own ship, no less! We’ll leave when I say so, princess.”

“What has gotten into you, Balthier?” she retorted. Balthier turned his head, but she wasn’t looking at him. “When you agreed to help me, I thought we could move past this.”

“Move past what? I don’t play well with others.”

“No, that isn’t it. You’re so… infuriating! Here I am, hoping to have a pleasant conversation with you that for once doesn’t involve our quest, or—or my _flaws_ , and you insist on pushing me away!”

“My apologies, then.”

Her fingers curled into tight fists, and her lip trembled. But she wouldn’t look at him. Perhaps the smell of the oil dripping from the engine offended her, and she now attempted to pretend they were somewhere else rather than the belly of a ship. Balthier’s brows rose.

Ah, so she was playing _that_ game.

He moved in front of her and frowned. “A pleasant conversation,” Balthier said, then gently touched her chin. “Is that what you’re really after?”

“Unhand me,” she spat.

“No, let’s talk. What’s on your mind, princess?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I was concerned for you, but I see now I was wrong to worry.”

“And why won’t you look at me?”

“I can’t!”

The floor shook—no, the entire ship shook. Boxes fell from shelves, and tools clattered to the floor. Balthier steadied himself against the engine, while Ashe sat utterly still, eyes closed, hands resting in her lap.

“It’s because you’re afraid, Balthier.”

“Of what?” Balthier ducked as another box toppled off the shelf. “Princess— _Ashe_ , it’s best we move before we’re—”

A bell tolled. It was quiet at first, muffled and dull as if it were far away. Then it grew louder and louder until Balthier felt he might go deaf. He covered his ears, stumbling as the floor continued to quake. And Ashe: what the hell was she doing? Still she knelt in front of him, as if she were meditating while the rest of the world fell apart around her.

“Ashe! Damn it— _look at me_!”

At last she opened her eyes and held out her hand, mouth open in a silent scream, and Balthier felt himself slip and fall backwards. The bells continued to toll, and then he heard it—a heartbeat. A heart beating at a sluggish pace, getting softer and softer until—

Nothing.

 

* * *

 

_The thirteen days after we awoke were the beginning of the end._

 

* * *

 

Balthier awoke with a gasp. His chest, or rather his heart, burned and ached terribly. Arms, legs, back—hell, his entire body felt as if it had been torn apart and sloppily stitched together again. He squeezed his eyes shut, a soft whine escaping his lips. At least he could still breathe and move his limbs, though at this point he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“Fran, I do believe we’re in need of repairs… Not the Strahl, no. Just me.”

His words were met with silence.

“Fran?”

Fran always answered. Granted, most of the time she would saunter to where he lay, cross her arms, and give him _that_ look, the one that made him cringe and curl up to protect his manhood, but she was always there. She was his partner! Wherever he went, Fran followed. Although, it seemed more of the opposite—wherever she went, he followed…

… But she wasn’t there. He hadn’t even completely opened his eyes yet, but deep down he knew that she was not with him.

Balthier grunted as he tried to push himself up from the ground. Right, there was no point in crying like a lost child looking for its mother. He needed to move, at least sit up, and then figure out what exactly happened. The Strahl… something had happened to his dear ship, and now he had absolutely no idea where he was. Just from the feeling of the thick, smoky air, he knew he wasn’t in the aerodrome anymore. He could no longer smell the sea, which meant this wasn’t Balfonheim either.

So where was he?

He could hear explosions and gunfire in the distance, the anguished screams of pain, and even a faint voice. Balthier turned his head toward the sound. A voice that he couldn’t quite recognize, though his hearing might’ve been damaged, preventing him from recognizing even his own voice.

“—snap out of it, alright?”

Balthier wrinkled his nose. If he could just open his eyes, then perhaps…

“Look, man. We’ve gotta move. The others are still out there, you know that. We can’t sit on our asses and mope while they’re out there fighting!”

“I _know_ that! It’s just—” Boots scuffled against the ground. “I could’ve done something. I should’ve done _more_.”

At this point, Balthier was able to at least move his arms and prop himself up. He shook his head, and finally opened his eyes, but the sight that greeted him was most certainly not the sandy shores of Balfonheim. There were bodies littered all around, some buried under rubble, some sprawled out next him, and some were even burned beyond recognition. No wonder the air smelled so foul. He couldn’t see much else, as the air was filled with smoke and ash, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to see the rest of it.

It was a war zone.

Balthier wiped his brow and swallowed hard. Had the Empire gone and bombed the city while he was hiding in his ship, and was this all that was left? If that were the case, then he should have been in the Strahl with Ashe.

His heart jumped. _Ashe_. Where was she? And Fran? Where were the others?

He staggered to his feet, but his legs felt numb and wobbled enough that he had to brace himself. His head spun, and his vision swam. The smoke and flames swirled together, and it took most of his strength to keep himself upright.

“Princess?” he called out. “Are you there?”

It wasn’t Ashe who answered.

“Hey, there’s someone alive here!”

Almost immediately, hands held his shoulders and pulled him up. The sudden movement jostled his head, which already ached to the point where he felt like retching. Balthier’s legs suddenly buckled, but the man – he assumed from the rough grip – caught him.

“Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

“Must you talk so loudly?” Balthier groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I need a moment, that’s all.”

“Are—are you kidding me? Did you hit your head or something? I mean, you definitely did, but just… Sit down for a second!”

Balthier had to tilt his head back to look the man in the eye; he was a little taller than Fran, who often called herself _short_ for a viera. “You’ve an odd way of caring for the injured,” he said, jerking out of the man’s grip. However, Balthier took his advice and sat down. “I’ll play along. Where are we?”

“We _were_ on that bridge,” came another voice. A man with wild red hair joined them. “But PSICOM got the upper hand and screwed everything up for us, the bastards!”

“PSICOM?”

“You _really_ hit your head, huh? In case you haven’t noticed, man, PSICOM’s planning on executing all the Purgees, and if we don’t stop them, a lot of more people are gonna die.”

Well, now he was sure this wasn’t Balfonheim, or even Ivalice for that matter. Unless Vayne had conjured up some new branch of the Empire for killing sea and sky pirates alike, there was no chance this was Ivalice. Relief washed over him, and Balthier felt his shoulders slump. _They’re safe_. At least the others were still safe.

Of course, he still had no idea _where_ he was, or how he ended up in this place. Something had happened in that earthquake, and something had brought him here. He just didn’t know _what_.

This was no dream, either. It felt too real to be a dream. It was the warmth radiating from the flames, the sickening scent of the recently deceased, and the way the screaming slowly died out that made this all too real. Had this been a dream, he wouldn’t have felt anything. He would have been numb to this disaster, and moved along as if nothing was terribly wrong.

“What’s your name, anyway?” the other man asked. He pulled off his bandana and shook it out, then quickly tied it back around his head. “Mine’s Snow, by the way.”

Balthier wrinkled his nose. “It’s Balthier.”

“Okay… And you’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“Everything is intact and in working order.”

Snow grinned and leaned back slightly, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his mind. “Alright, then let’s get going. We’ll get you back to the others, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

Balthier stood and pulled at his cuffs. He considered asking the obvious again and demanding real answers this time, but—what good would that do? Running around like a lunatic and asking stupid questions like that would gather too much attention, and that was the last thing he wanted right now. He wasn’t even sure he could trust these men yet. Gadot seemed impatient, with the way he kept fidgeting with his rifle and grumbling under his breath, and Snow—well, so far Balthier took him for an idiot. Now _he_ was too trusting for his own good.

Or, perhaps, he was only relieved to find another survivor. In that case he was still a fool, but he was at least a considerate fool.

“What happened?” Balthier asked.

“Like Gadot said, PSICOM got the upper hand. They don’t care how many people get killed in the process… just as long as the job gets done,” Snow said, voice low. He shook his head and sighed. “I guess that must’ve been the plan all along. Carry out the Purge, even if it means killing everyone.”

“The… Purge?”

Behind them, Gadot snorted. “PSICOM boarded everyone in Bodhum on trains and _said_ they were going to Pulse. Said it was for the good of Cocoon,” he answered with a scoff. “Yeah, right.”

“Right,” Balthier repeated. “And you’re…?”

“Trying to stop them,” Snow cut in. “We’ve gotta save everyone we can.”

Ah, so he was a delusional fool, at that. Of all people to find him in this strange, new world, it had to be someone like that. Balthier crossed his arms and looked to Gadot for an explanation, but the other man only shrugged and began to walk away.

“You coming with us?” Snow asked, clapping a hand on Balthier’s shoulder. Balthier flinched and stepped aside.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not unless you want to get carted off to Pulse.”

Although he didn’t know what sort of place “Pulse” exactly was, from the grim tone of Snow’s voice it seemed like Pulse was the last place anyone wanted to go. His brows furrowed, and his lip curled slightly as he understood—this truly was a different world. He needed to try and find his way back to Ivalice, if it were even possible, but for now he had no choice but to follow Snow. It was better to have a companion than to be alone right now, after all.

“Lead the way, then.”

They found Gadot kneeling behind a collapsed pillar, and something had caught his attention. He shushed them both when Snow was about to ask, and they soon discovered why. At least three soldiers were investigating the area ahead, blocking their way off the bridge and their way back to the surface. Snow peeked around the corner, then turned to face Balthier.

“Just wondering,” he said almost hesitantly. “You know how to fight, right?”

“I know my way around, if that’s what you’re asking.” Balthier touched the gun in his belt and nodded. “I’m not the greatest at it, but I can use magick if need be.”

Snow suddenly went tense. For moment it was almost like he’d stopped breathing altogether.

“Magick, huh,” he murmured. “Are you…”

“Am I, what?”

“A l’Cie. If you are—”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me again, Ice. Stop throwing all this nonsense at me. What’s with that look? Hm?”

Snow swallowed hard. “It’s… If you don’t know what l’Cie are…” He gave a forced laugh and shook his head. “But how can you use magick if you’re not—”

“Where I’m from, even the most inept of children can wield magick. I happen to be… not so skilled at it, but I know a few spells. Curative spells, a few elemental spells. I never did like relying on them, though.”

“Well, we’ll take what we can get. Let’s move.”

Balthier didn’t miss the way Gadot was unmistakably wary of him, more so than before, but at least Snow was willing to be friendly—not that Balthier wanted him hanging around that much. He had a feeling Snow was the type to throw himself in front of a complete stranger and take the bullet, and that wasn’t something Balthier wanted on his conscience. He didn’t want fool’s blood on his hands.

“Gadot, you follow my lead,” Snow said. “Balthier, you watch our backs and offer any support you can. Got it?”

“You intend on taking them head on?” Balthier asked. “Are you mad? They’ll call for reinforcements before you strike!”

“Then we’ll take them out before they can.”

“No, you need to think this through. They could have more men just around the corner, and I don’t care how strong you might be—you can’t take on more than one at a time.”

Snow snorted. “Yeah? Watch me.”

Headstrong, overconfident, _and_ foolish—it was a wonder this man hadn’t gotten himself killed yet. Balthier didn’t have the chance to saying anything more before both Snow and Gadot took off running, heading straight for the soldiers. They were both fools, but they at least had good intentions. Good intentions that would eventually be their demise, but good intentions nonetheless.

Gadot provided gunfire from behind, while Snow faced the soldiers head on—using no more than his fists. Balthier cursed under his breath and staggered out from behind the rubble, fire magick crackling at his fingertips.

“Ice— _Snow_ , get down!”

Snow barely looked back before Balthier released the spell, and he and Gadot scrambled out of the way as flames burst and engulfed the soldiers. Balthier shielded his eyes and wiped his forehead, then winced. His arm burned, almost as if the spell had backfired. One quick look revealed no physical burns, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“That was…” Snow panted, pushing himself up from the ground. “I thought you said you were shit at magick?”

“I don’t recall saying anything of the like,” Balthier replied. “Compared to most mages in Ivalice, I am nothing more than a novice. I’ve a good mentor.”

Somewhere, Fran was probably laughing at him.

“Hey, check it out!” Gadot stole their attention with a whistle; he held his arms out and practically embraced what appeared to be an airbike. “Gimme a sec, and I’ll have these beauties working again.”

Snow smiled. “You sure?”

“What, you don’t think I can do it? Have a little faith in me, boss.”

Snow rolled his eyes and joined Balthier, while Gadot began to work on the airbikes. It was almost instantaneous; the moment Gadot turned away, Snow’s grin fell and vanished as if it had never even been there in the first place. He hung his head, his bangs falling over his eyes.

“Of course I do,” he murmured. “Always have.”

Balthier glanced behind them, then moved a little closer to Snow. “Something the matter?” he asked. “Worried we’ll be stuck here or some sort?”

“No, no—we’ll find the others. It’s just—” Snow balled his fists and and sighed. “Maybe they were right. Maybe I should’ve thought this through.”

“This, being your little rescue mission?”

“The idea of it sounded cooler in my head, but I got cocky. I got too cocky, and it cost people their lives. They wouldn’t have been out there if it wasn’t for my big mouth.”

All the people on the bridge, Balthier assumed. Snow and his gang had started their own little rebellion, but they were too inexperienced, and it soon spiraled out of their control. That was as much as Balthier could gather, from the way Snow seemed to be beating himself up over it. It was understandable that he felt like that, but given their situation, they didn’t have the time to mull over regrets and blame themselves.

Balthier closed his eyes for a moment. Ashe had no regrets. She stood tall and intended to face her foes, and win back her kingdom. She didn’t have time for regrets, or failure. It simply was not an option for her, or any of her companions. Fail, and Dalmasca would be nothing more than smoldering rubble in the desert. But it was their choice to join her cause; all Ashe did was inspire them to do the right thing. It was _their_ choice to follow her, and perhaps it was the same for those that died today under Snow’s command.

Unfortunately, he doubted Snow would be willing to listen to a stranger’s advice. In fact, it seemed like he’d completely forgotten Gadot’s words, and soon his guilt would eat at him until there was nothing left. Balthier could see it now, from the way Snow’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes glassed over. The seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.

“Why are you here?” Balthier asked. “Just to save people from a terrible empire, or is there something more?”

Snow glanced at him, then looked forward again. “My fiancée. She was captured by the fal’Cie.”

“The—what?”

_That_ got his attention. Snow looked at Balthier with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly. “What’s your deal, man? I thought you’d just hit your head, but… you really don’t know anything, do you? The fal’Cie’s the reason for the Purge.”

He pointed at a large, towering structure looming in the distance—it was strangely humanoid shaped, spreading grotesque wings made of metal.

“The Pulse Vestige,” Snow continued. “It’s been in Bodhum for as long as I can remember, but after they discovered it was housing a fal’Cie, they quarantined the whole town and planned on shipping everyone to Pulse.”

“And the fal’Cie are…?”

Snow shrugged. “A lot of people worship our fal’Cie like gods, so I guess you could call them that. Pulse fal’Cie, on the other hand, are enemies of Cocoon—and if you set foot near one, that makes you an enemy, too.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

“That’s why we’re out here. That’s why we planned on stopping the Purge, and saving everyone we could,” Snow replied. “But, like I said, it didn’t work out the way I wanted. For all I know, those people might’ve survived on Pulse. Now they’re…”

Dead.

“So what’s your deal?” Snow managed a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t really have amnesia, do you?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve no idea how I ended up here, but this Cocoon of yours is certainly not where I call home.”

“So you’re from Pulse?”

Balthier ran his fingers through his hair. “No,” he said. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I think… I’ve somehow gotten myself lost in a completely different world.”

The look on Snow’s face said it all—disbelief. He should’ve expected a reaction like this, given how foolish he felt saying the words himself. Had someone come up to him and said they were from another world, he would have laughed at them and turned them away. Balthier may have lived in a world where magick was common knowledge, a place where anything could happen, but he was still what most would call a skeptic.

Snow stared at him for a few moments, almost as if he were waiting for Balthier to laugh and say it was all a joke. Then, finally, Snow whistled lowly and leaned back.

“And here I thought you were just weird,” he said with an almost forced laugh. “So where’re you from?”

“Ivalice,” Balthier answered. “I was in my airship when something happened. Something pulled me to this world, and I’ve no idea how to get back. Is that too farfetched of a story for you?”

Before Snow could answer, Gadot poked his head out from behind an airbike and waved at them.

“We’re all set. Let’s get our asses moving before they find us.”

Snow stood, then offered a hand to Balthier, who reluctantly took it and got up as well. “I’ll be honest: you sound like you’re crazy,” he said as they walked. “But if you really think you’re from another world, then I believe you. Maybe the fal’Cie did this to you.”

“I doubt that,” Balthier said.

Gadot had already claimed one of the airbikes for himself, and judging by the scrutinizing stare he gave Balthier, he wasn’t looking for company. Balthier sighed—while he appreciated Snow’s willingness to believe his tale, he still found the other man to be incredibly irksome. The sooner he could get rid of him, the better. He could find a way back to Ivalice without the help of fools.

“Hey, maybe I’ll ask the fal’Cie for directions back to your world,” Snow said, climbing into the seat. Balthier scowled and sat behind him. “They’ve gotta know something, right?”

“I find it unlikely your gods had anything to do with me.” The gods of his world, though, perhaps. Fran always said he ought to stop taunting them. “Don’t make light of this, please. It’s tactless.”

“Only trying to get that scowl off your face, that’s all.”

The engines roared with life, and Gadot gave a hearty laugh. “What’s this I hear about the fal’Cie screwing with other worlds now?”

Balthier groaned.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the journey was quiet, surprisingly. He half expected Snow to start going on about his life’s story, but he seemed to have something else on his mind. His fiancée, no doubt. Balthier considered asking more about her, but it wasn’t his place to go poking about other people’s business when he preferred to keep his own story to himself.

When they touched down and got out of their airbikes, Snow was nearly mauled by what Balthier assumed were his friends. A woman in particular grabbed him by his ear and immediately began to berate him for leaving them all behind.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, Lebreau!” Snow said with a laugh. “We’re okay, see?”

“It’s a miracle you guys got out of there in one piece. We saw it happen, when PSICOM took the whole bridge down. We thought…” Lebreau gave him a fierce shove. “Don’t do that again, okay? We gotta stick together.”

“There goes the mama bear act,” Gadot murmured to Balthier. “Lebreau always gets like this when we do something stupid.”

“You keep quiet!” she snapped. “Someone’s got to keep you idiots in line.”

The so called idiots consisted of Snow, their apparent leader, Gadot, and two younger men by the names of Yuj and Maqui. Balthier learned they, along with Lebreau, were part of a little group they called NORA, and they were the ones leading the rebellion against PSICOM.

“Here, you look like you need this,” Lebreau said as she pushed a bottle into Balthier’s hands. “Snow said you might’ve hit your head in the collapse.”

Balthier took the potion without question, though it left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. “I am lucky that was the worst of my injuries. Thank you.”

She winked at him and patted his shoulder. “No worries. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

“This ought to tie me over. It’s probably best you check on the rest of your insur—er, resistance. I imagine they have it worse than I do.”

“I’ve done what I can, but potions and pep talks only do so much.” Lebreau nodded towards a group of gray faced children huddled together. “A lot of kids lost their family today. Parents, brothers, sisters…”

“Orphaned by war. It’s a common tale as of late.”

“It sucks, but that’s what war is. What about you? Did you lose anyone?”

_Yes_ , he wanted to say. Balthier wasn’t sure if his companions had been taken to this world as well, and he had a gut feeling that he truly was the only one there. Ashe had been with him moments before he found himself on Cocoon, but she wasn’t there when he woke up.

“No, I was alone,” he answered. Lebreau narrowed her eyes. “I’m lucky your boys found me, however. Without them, I would likely still be out there.”

“Snow’s got the habit of picking up strays. He likes to call himself a hero, as… dumb as it sounds. He’s always trying to help as many people as he can.” She sighed again in a wistful manner. “He’s been that way ever since we were kids.”

“I see.”

There wasn’t much else he could say. It wasn’t that he was uninterested, no, but he merely had more pressing matters on hand. He didn’t have time to listen to sad stories about broken families or tragic childhoods.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t unload on you like that. It’s been a tough day, and it’s not over yet.” Lebreau patted his arm again, then winked. “Hang tight. We’ll have a plan in no time.”

A plan? Well, he hoped their escape plan worked out better than their plan of attack. They couldn’t afford to lose any more people, not when there were already so many children left to protect.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Snow talking with Gadot. The two men seemed to be arguing, though it appeared Snow was winning. He gave Gadot an almost pleading look, and eventually the other man nodded and stormed off. Snow stood there for a few moments, looking toward the Vestige, before he finally caught Balthier’s eye.

“I was being serious, you know,” he said, as Balthier walked over. “About asking the fal’Cie about your world. Iva-something or other. I mean, sure, maybe you did smack your head and conjure up some crazy story, but maybe you’re telling the truth.”

“You truly are a fool, Ice.”

“It’s—it’s Snow, not…” Snow shook his head and leaned back in his seat. “Right. Stay here until I get back, okay?”

“Do you really expect me to wait around? I’m an impatient man.” Balthier glanced at the Vestige. “You weren’t lying either, were you—about your fiancée. That’s the real reason behind this rebellion.”

“Mm-hm. I’m her hero, after all.” At the mere mention of his fiancée, Snow seemed to retreat within himself. All that optimism had vanished with hardly a single trace left behind. “Things got complicated along the way. No thanks to you,” he added with a wry grin. “Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“I’ll manage without you.”

Snow gave another laugh, and not a moment later he was gone.


	2. into the deep

It wasn’t like him to just take orders like that. Even as a student at the academy, he rarely listened to his mentors and often did the opposite of what they wanted—which was stupid of him, but he had been a rather stupid child at the time. Balthier scoffed. Fran called him childish for a reason, he supposed. Perhaps he really hadn’t changed that much.

He wasn’t really disappointed in himself, no. It was more that he couldn’t believe how quickly things had fallen apart, even when he tried his best to handle his situation. Of course, what did he expect? To find a way back to Ivalice so soon? It was a miracle that he hadn’t died out there! At least for now he was safe and away from any immediate danger, something Gadot just wouldn’t let him forget.

“Take it easy, will ya? You’re getting all fidgety again,” Gadot said, elbowing Balthier’s side. “Once Snow gets back with Serah, we’ll grab the rest of the refugees and…”

“Find shelter? You’re an inexperienced lot, aren’t you?” Balthier asked. “People will die, no matter what you do. What you can do is save your own skin, and hope that no one else gets you killed. You’ve never been in a real battle before today, have you?”

Gadot grumbled and stalked off at that point, and Balthier was glad. He didn’t need to hear any more empty promises and words of encouragement. What he needed was to get out of there. Fran was probably worried sick about him (in her usual aloof manner), and the others, at least Vaan and Penelo, would refuse to go anywhere without him. They needed him to pilot the _Strahl_ , and he would rather die than let Vaan take over, not before he had a chance to teach him how to properly handle his girl.

Balthier ran a hand over his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Just as he closed his eyes to rest, someone tapped his shoulder.

“I thought we were done talking—” He paused as soon as he opened his eyes. It was a girl with curly hair in pigtails, dressed in a most peculiar fashion. She smiled at him and waved, giggling softly, while a young boy sulked behind her.

“You look lost,” she said, resting her hands on her hips. “Are you lost?”

“I believe we’re all a little lost right now, but yes. I suppose I am.”

“Us, too! Me and… Er…” She looked at the boy and motioned for him to come over, but he shook his head and turned away. “We were part of the Purge, see, and—”

“And now you don’t want to sit around and wait for someone else to give orders,” Balthier finished, sitting up. “Oh, I understand. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do for you.”

The girl huffed. “And now _you’re_ going to tell me the best thing I can do is sit around and wait for someone else to tell me what to do.”

Balthier found himself chuckling. Oh, this girl had spark. “I could, but there’s no fun in that.”

“There’s something we have to do, and… we need help.”

“We” being her and the boy, he assumed. They seemed to be two of the older children in the group, and they were probably disappointed that they weren’t out there fighting with their families. Instead they were stuck with the rest of the kids, left there to do nothing but wonder if their families were still alive. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to do _something_ , anything other than waiting around for news, be it good or bad.

“And what did you have in mind?” Balthier asked.

“That thing,” she replied a little too quickly. She pointed towards the Vestige, looming in the distance. “We need to go there.”

“Why?”

“To… find someone. He has something to say to them, and we can’t go there alone. That’s why we need you.”

Balthier’s brows rose. Snow was the only one who’d gone to the Vestige, but what business did they have with him? “Why not ask one of them?” he suggested, gesturing towards the NORA gang. “I’m sure they’d be happy to help, and they’ve got transportation. I’ll even ask them for you.”

“No, don’t! It’s just that,” the girl took a deep breath, “they’ve got to stay with all these children, and I’m sure they wouldn’t want to go. Everyone on Cocoon hates Pulse, you know. They’d want to stay away from the Vestige.”

“And I wouldn’t?”

“If you’re lost, you might find what you’re looking for there. We can help each other. I, um…” She plopped next to him and tucked some hair behind her ear. “I heard you talking to them,” she whispered. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“It’s impolite to eavesdrop, girl.”

“So you really aren’t from Cocoon! Then you should come with us! Will you?” She grabbed his arm and tugged on it. “If you come with us, you might find a way back home.”

“Home?” So that was it: she thought he was from Pulse. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, girl. I’m not from here, nor am I from Pulse. Whatever’s in that Vestige, I doubt it can help me.”

The girl drew away, but she kept both hands around his arm. “You’re… not from Pulse, either?”

“Ever heard of a place called Ivalice?” When she shook her head, Balthier sighed. “Of course you haven’t. For all I know, Ivalice could be nothing but a fairytale in this world.”

“How did you get here?”

“If I knew, I would have found a way back already. Go on, girl. Your boy’s getting impatient.”

She looked at the boy, who had started pacing, then looked back at Balthier. “My name’s Vanille, and he’s Hope. It was nice meeting you… um….”

“Balthier.”

“Okay. Balthier.”

Vanille stood and joined the boy, and the pair disappeared into the crowd of children and the elderly. He supposed he might have been too cold with her, but he wasn’t about to reveal his life’s story and beg for help in getting back to Ivalice. His business was his own.

He doubted this Vestige would contain anything about Ivalice. Their worlds were completely different, and since no one he’d met so far had heard of his world, it was unlikely anyone else knew of it, either. If he was going to find a way back, he would have to do it alone.

That said, he felt a twinge of guilt. Leaving two children to go off on their own into unknown territory… It didn’t sit well with him. The least he could do was keep an eye on them, and once their little mission was over, he’d bring them back to safety. His own troubles could wait for the time being.

He found them lurking near the airbike, and as expected, Vanille seemed to be the driving force between the two of them. They were lucky that Gadot and the others were too busy checking on the other refugees to notice.

“I changed my mind,” he said, startling them both. “I’ll be going with you.”

Vanille gave a knowing smile. “Great, because—do you think you could fly this?”

“This?”

Balthier leaned into the airbike and gave it a once-over. The controls were quite similar to his own back in Ivalice, though Fran spent more time piloting it than he did. It was also far less advanced than a standard airship, so perhaps…

“Wouldn’t be much of a sky pirate if I couldn’t commandeer any ship I pleased. Well, get on. We best hurry.”

The two piled onto the seat behind him, though Vanille seemed to have no understanding of personal space. She wrapped her arms around Balthier’s waist, giggling all the while, and watched him start the engine and grip the controls.

“Right,” he murmured. “Hold on!”

The airbike sped off the bridge with a gut-wrenching jolt, and despite the wind rushing around their heads, Balthier thought he heard Gadot and the others shouting at them from below. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned his gaze forward as they flew towards the Vestige.

“S-slow down!” Hope all but screamed. “We’re gonna hit it!”

“No need to worry!” Balthier shouted with a grimace. Vanille’s arms were unbearably tight around his waist. “I know what I’m—”

A burst of light shot out from the Vestige and hit the airbike head on, sending them spiraling towards the abyss. Balthier grit his teeth and pulled back, turning them towards the Vestige—but it was no use. The engine coughed and spluttered, then went quiet. The last thing he heard was Vanille’s ear-shattering screams as they fell.

 

* * *

 

As he slowly came to, Balthier rolled over and touched his head. No blood, no obvious injuries—everything appeared to be in working order. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been in a airbike crash, but this was the result of unfortunate circumstances, not nethicite. _Something_ inside the Vestige didn’t want them meddling and acted against them, and it was sheer luck they survived the fall.

Speaking of which—

Hope and Vanille were sprawled out beside him, and luckily they would end up with only a few scrapes and bruises. The same could not be said for the airbike, however. The thing was nothing more than a smoking heap of metal, its engine whirring and barely clinging to life. Without transportation, they were stuck, and he doubted Snow’s airbike survived the journey either with the way he flew it.

Carefully, he moved Vanille onto her back and shook her by the shoulder. When she began to stir, he checked on Hope, who also began to wake up.

“Mm… what happened?” he asked, rubbing at his neck.

“We crashed, what else? Although it would appear we’re right where we wanted to be,” Balthier replied. “This is the Vestige, right?”

Vanille stumbled to her feet. “Yup. The Pulse Vestige. But there’s no one else here… Guess it’s just us.”

“Expecting someone?”

She shrugged and offered a hand to Hope, pulling him up from the floor. “It’s okay. We’ll find our way around somehow.”

“A shame there’s no map laying around. I would hate to end up lost in a place like this.”

It was too quiet. The eerie silence was enough to make the bravest man turn on his heel and run screaming, but Balthier didn’t think himself brave. No, he considered himself to be at least smart, even if he tended to follow his gut feeling most of the time. He somehow knew this was exactly where he needed to be, but he wasn’t quite sure that was a good thing.

“What now? Where do we go from here?” Hope huddled close to Vanille, fingers wrapped around her wrist. “What if he’s not even here anymore?”

“Only one way to find out,” Balthier said. “We keep going.”

The boy’s fears were understandable, and even Balthier had his doubts. They had no idea if Snow made it to the Vestige, or if he’d been picked off by soldiers before he had the chance to go inside. But they had no transportation back to NORA, and even if they could go back, what then? Would they, by some miracle, escape from PSICOM and find refuge elsewhere on Pulse? They’d be forced to run for as long as they were hunted, and from experience he knew that hunters rarely gave up on the chase. Sooner or later, they’d be caged like animals and transported to Pulse—or worse, killed.

At least for now, they were safe from PSICOM. _For now_.

“Come on!” Vanille held Hope by the hand, a wide smile on her face. “Things will work out, you’ll see.”

“How can you say that?” Hope suddenly snapped. “Even soldiers know not to go near the fal’Cie. You become a Pulse l’Cie, and you’re finished!”

“What do you mean, ‘finished’?”

“Haven’t you heard? L’Cie are just—just…” Hope’s fingers tightened around hers. “What were we thinking?”

That was the problem: they _weren’t_ thinking. Curiosity had gotten the best of all of them.

“I’ve heard all this talk about fal’Cie and l’Cie, but I’ve really no idea what those words truly mean,” Balthier said. “Anyone willing to elaborate?”

“Oh! You’re probably so confused—sorry, Balthier,” Vanille said, then gently tugged Hope’s hand and led him to the stairs. “L’Cie are people chosen by the fal’Cie to complete a specific task. They’re given magick and other new abilities, but at a price. If they don’t complete their Focus in time, they turn into monsters—Cie’th.”

Balthier grimaced. “And if they do complete it?”

“Then they turn to crystal and gain eternal life!”

Her tone was far too cheery for something so morbid. From what he gathered, the fal’Cie were a lot like the Occuria, using humans as nothing more than puppets that would bend at their every whim. It was strange, though, that in this world humans couldn’t use magick, but at least it explained Snow’s reaction earlier.

“And what of Pulse?” he asked. “Why do so many of you fear it?”

Vanille’s smile faltered, and she turned the other way. “I guess people are naturally afraid of things they don’t understand.”

After a moment, she began to head up with stairs with a profound air of determination. It was like something had caught her eye, the way she bounded over to one of the many pillars and began to scope around. At last she pulled out what appeared to be a weapon, but it wasn’t like any weapon Balthier had seen. It looked like a staff of sorts, but the wire bound around a pair of antlers confused him even more.

“Well, what d’you think?” she asked, grinning.

“It’s Pulsian, right?” Hope crept up behind Balthier, fingers idling pulling at his gloves. “Do you even know how to use it?”

“Can’t be too hard, can it?”

“I hope you know what you’re doing…”

“And you shouldn’t be so negative,” she said in a sing-song tone. “We could probably find something for you, too, if you’d like.”

“Uh… that’s okay. I’ve got this.”

Balthier half expected the boy to pull out a small knife, but instead he held out a—boomerang. It looked more like a child’s toy rather than a weapon, but Balthier supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“My… my dad got it for me.”

He didn’t elaborate any more, and Balthier didn’t expect him to. Hope’s expression seemed to darken, and he went quiet. Vanille didn’t notice the sudden shift in his demeanor, and she took it as a chance to further explore the Vestige.

“Do you think we’ll need to use these?” Hope asked, jogging to catch up with her. Balthier took noticeably longer strides to keep up with them. “I thought this place was abandoned years ago.”

“Who knows? I heard they had some soldiers check it out the other night, but I don’t see anyone,” Vanille replied.

Hope visibly tensed. “What if—what if they’re all dead?”

As if to answer his question, a low growl rumbled from behind. Balthier whipped around and drew his gun, but—there was nothing there. Nothing he could see, at least. He motioned for Hope and Vanille to get behind him, but Vanille jumped next to him, her weapon already drawn.

“Let’s… tread lightly,” Balthier said. “I would hate to disturb any slumbering beasts.”

“This was a mistake,” Hope whimpered. “We shouldn’t have left the others!”

The children had acted on impulse, likely caused by all the adrenaline running through their veins after the attack. They wanted to keep fighting and fighting until they couldn’t go on, but now that they had a moment of peace, reality hit them hard.

It hit Hope, at the very least. Balthier wasn’t too sure about Vanille.

“There’s no going back now,” he said, nodding towards their destroyed airbike. “We press on. We’re bound to find someone in this place.”

Someone like Snow. They found the remains of his airbike as well, pieces of the engine scattered across the floor, but he was already long gone by the time they got there. He was somewhere deep within the Vestige now, and sooner or later they’d find him—alive, or perhaps dead.

Vanille led the way, humming to herself while Hope never strayed too far. She appeared to have a vague idea of where she wanted to go, though Balthier could’ve sworn they were going in circles. The Vestige was like a maze with hallways and stairs going in all directions, so it was no wonder that any soldiers PSICOM had sent were lost within the labyrinth. Balthier hoped they wouldn’t meet the same fate.

 

* * *

 

“This place… It’s like a maze. Maybe we’re going in circles.”

The further they went into the Vestige, the more talkative Hope became. In the beginning, he merely muttered to himself and hung around Vanille like a lost pup, but now he was growing bolder. Or perhaps more impatient. Balthier himself felt agitated with the way the stairs never seemed to end. Up and down, down and up… Over and over.

“Hey… hey! Can we…” Hope scurried up the stairs and nearly tripped over his own feet. “Can we take a break?”

“We shouldn’t linger too long,” Balthier said. “The air is thicker here… Something isn’t right.”

 _The Mist_ , Fran would say, but this was nothing like he’d ever felt before. Strong magicks were at work here. Balthier took another step forward, but that unsettled feeling only got worse. He touched his head and turned around—

Just as a loud roar ripped through the air.

Balthier whipped around. Mangled, human-like creatures lumbered up the stairs, groaning and screaming as if they were in constant pain. Their bodies looked like they’d been burned and left to rot in the sun, and the way they moved—it was _unnatural_.

“What—what are those things?” Hope asked, his back pressed up against Vanille.

“Cie’th,” she said, eyes wide. “L’Cie who failed. This is what happens… when they don’t complete the Focus the fal’Cie gave them.”

Balthier drew his gun and shot the first one that got too close, but soon after that one fell, another followed. The Cie’th were relentless, determined to reach them and tear them to shreds, and no matter how many he shot down, more poured through the doors. Hope and Vanille kept close to one another, ducking behind Balthier when a Cie’th nearly latched onto them.

“H-hey, look out!”

Balthier turned, and—

The Cie’th’s arm slammed into his body and flung him across the floor. The sheer force knocked the wind from his chest, his vision spiraling until the horde of Cie’th was nothing more than a brown blur against white. Balthier struggled to get back on his feet, and as he blindly groped around, he soon realized he’d dropped his gun.

The thunderous tramping grew closer, and Balthier squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for another hit, but—it never came. The Cie’th roared in pain and whirled, forgetting Balthier to defend itself from the new aggressor. There was a sickening crunch, and the creature crashed to the floor, then burst into crystal shards.

And standing over its remains was…

“What— _you_ again?” Snow spluttered. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Balthier mumbled, pulling himself up from the floor. He cast a small curative spell, easing the worst of his aches for the time being. “What happened to rescuing your girl?”

Snow ignored him and bent down to pick up Balthier’s gun. He wordlessly handed it back to him, then went over to check on Hope and Vanille. They were both out of breath and red in the face, but Balthier was relieved to see they managed well enough on their own.

“You gotta get out of here,” Snow told them. “There’s Cie’th everywhere… I think the fal’Cie must’ve done something to PSICOM’s grunts. You guys could be next.”

“Easy, Ice,” Balthier warned. “No need to scare them off.”

“I thought I told you to wait. What were you thinking, coming in after me?”

Balthier rolled his eyes. “I told you—I’m an impatient man. I don’t like to be kept waiting. Besides, it wasn’t my idea to come gallivanting after you. Would you have preferred they come here on their own?”

“Well, no, but it’s still dangerous—for _anyone_. Even trained soldiers didn’t last long here.”

“You seem to be doing just fine.”

Snow looked at him once, as if to retort, but he turned his attention back to Hope and Vanille. He rubbed at the back of his head, then sighed heavily.

“I’m guessing there’s nothing I can say that’ll get you guys to leave, huh? Should’ve known,” he said. “I can’t make you leave, but I’m not forcing you to come with me, either. It’s gotta be your choice, but choose fast. I’m not waiting long. Serah’s still out there.”

Vanille perked up, bringing her hands to her chest. “Who’s Serah?”

“My wife,” Snow replied immediately, then paused. “Future wife, that is. She’s… she’s a Pulse l’Cie. The fal’Cie took her, and I’m here to bring her home.”

Snow might have missed the forlorn look in Vanille’s eyes, but Balthier didn’t. She hid it well behind that smile of hers, enough that Balthier thought he was seeing things for a moment.

“Like I said, it’s your choice. You can wait for me to come back, like Balthier should’ve, or you can come with me.” Snow lowered his gaze and turned around. “I’m not abandoning Serah. Not when she needs me most.”

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Hope suddenly shouted. “You want to help a l’Cie? They’re the enemy! How can you help a l’Cie, and not… not…” He shook his head and balled his fists. “That’s insane!”

Silence fell around them like a thick blanket. Even Vanille, who usually took it upon herself to defuse tension between them, kept quiet, and it seemed like Snow had no idea what to say, either. This sort of outburst was unexpected from Hope; he’d barely said more than a few sentences to Balthier until now. Apparently, there was more to this boy than he originally thought.

“Probably,” Snow finally said with a soft laugh. “But it doesn’t matter. If it means saving Serah, then I’m okay with it.”

Balthier closed his eyes—the fool had a one-track mind, and that one thing on his mind was his girl. It was admirable, to be sure, but it was also quite stupid.

“Traveling together seems to be the right idea, what with Cie’th roaming these parts,” Balthier said. “There’s only one place to go from here, I’m afraid, and that’s closer to the fal’Cie… if you’re up to it, that is.”

Hope lifted his head and met Balthier’s eyes, and, briefly, he saw nothing but hatred. Vanille grabbed Hope’s hands and pulled his attention away from Balthier and Snow.

“Let’s go with them,” she whispered. “If you don’t take this chance now, you’ll regret it forever.”

“R-right,” Hope only managed to say.


	3. omen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry this chapter is a day late! I'll reply to comments/messages as soon as I can!)

Balthier didn’t know much about this world, but there was one thing he knew for certain: Snow was going to get himself killed.

Or worse. He was going to get them _all_ killed.

He constantly threw himself headfirst into danger, diving in to protect them as if he were no more than a human meat shield. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long, if this was how he’d been all his life. Snow wasn’t just putting himself at risk, either. Although Vanille seemed to have some experiencing in fighting, Hope was only a child – a child that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They should have stayed some place safe, far away from danger, but Snow wanted to bring them along – with good intentions, surely – but he was also far too eager to lead them straight into danger. Perhaps he thought keeping them close was the only way to ensure their safety.

The only thing Balthier could do for now was keep Snow upright for as long as he could. He never was an experienced healer, or that much of a mage in general, but Fran taught him the most basic magicks for when the situation got dire.

With Snow, however…

A Cie’th had gotten a hold of his arm and tore through his skin like it was paper, and Balthier managed to aim for the creature’s face and kill it before it could do any more damage. While Vanille and Hope took the opportunity to rest, Balthier went over to Snow and held out his hand.

“Give it here,” he said. “Let me have a look.”

Snow stared at him. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just wrap it up and deal with it later.”

“You don’t want to pass out before we find your girl, do you?”

Mentioning Serah seemed to do the trick. Snow relented and looked the other way as Balthier moved closer.

“I’m amazed you’re not covered in scars,” he murmured as he took Snow’s wounded arm in his hands.

“Lebreau’s good at what she does. Keeping us alive, I mean,” Snow said. “But, uh—what are you doing?”

“Healing you. Sit still.”

Balthier closed his eyes and concentrated on channeling his magick into Snow’s arm. Slowly, the skin began to stitch itself back together, and soon the wound was nothing more than a small scratch. Not completely healed, but enough that it was no longer a burden.

“Bet that comes in handy where you’re from,” Snow said as he checked his arm over.

“It’s gotten me out of a tight spot now and then.”

“And you don’t have to worry about… you know. The army going after you for it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Huh. Must be nice.”

Balthier caught a hint of jealousy in Snow’s voice. The army that controlled this world feared anything out of the ordinary, and anything that wasn’t from their world. Balthier frowned. If he were to come in contact with this PSICOM, what would happen? He wasn’t from this world. He could use magick. Surely he’d end up just like the unlucky souls in the Purge.

“Maybe that’s how you got here,” Snow said. “Magick. You showing up just when a fal’Cie is discovered… It can’t be more than coincidence.”

“Been thinking about me, have you?”

“Just trying to make sense of things, that’s all.”

Balthier felt a smile tug at his lips. “Don’t think too hard.”

“I’ll try not to. It’s not every day some guy falls out of the sky and says he’s from another world.”

“I didn’t fall out of the sky.”

“It’s a _joke_ , man. It would make more sense if you did, though. You sure you didn’t hit your head at some point?”

“And here I thought you believed me…”

“I do!” Snow held up his hands to placate him, but Balthier was more annoyed if anything. “No, really—I do believe you. You try not to show it, but I can tell you’re worried about it.”

Balthier crossed his arms. “Worried about what?”

“Getting home. You’ve got someone waiting for you, right?”

—Ah. Snow was more perceptive than he let on. “Shouldn’t you be worrying about your girl, Ice?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Let’s get a move on, then.”

Balthier turned away, but Snow wasn’t done yet.

“H-hey, come on. What’s your deal? All I asked was—” He stopped and shook his head. “Okay. Okay. I get the hint.” Snow waved to Hope and Vanille, who had been talking amongst themselves this entire time. “Serah’s waiting.”

As Hope and Vanille came over, Balthier caught the way they dragged their feet and kept their heads low. Even Vanille, who’d been chipper since the moment they met, seemed to losing her luster and looked ready to drop at any moment.

He turned toward Snow again.

“You don’t know where you’re going, do you?”

Snow paused and looked over his shoulder. “Huh?”

“This place… Pulse Vestige, you called it?” Balthier rested his hands on his hips and frowned. “You’re talking as if you know exactly where your girl is, but if you’ve never been here before… You’re lost. _We’re_ lost.”

“I know where—” He shut his mouth and looked the other way. “I’m just following my instincts. Serah has to be around here somewhere. The fal’Cie brought her here for a reason… and I’m not going to stop looking until I find her.”

“Yes, yes, you’re fighting for a noble cause! We heard that bit already.”

“Then how about you take the lead? Maybe you’ve got a better sense of direction.”

It was difficult to tell whether Snow was being serious, but he was certainly testing Balthier’s patience. Neither of them knew where they were going; even if Balthier took the lead, it would be nothing more than the blind leading the blind.

“ _Oh!_ ” Vanille’s shrill voice startled them both. “What about this way? Those stairs—they weren’t there before!”

Balthier wasn’t aware how tense things were between him and Snow until Vanille skipped to them and leaned over the ledge. Snow had a firm frown on his face, his hands clenched at his sides, but as soon Vanille grabbed his attention, every trace of frustration vanished.

“Worth a shot,” he said. “Good eye, Vanille.”

She beamed at his praise. “We’re not lost until we give up looking!”

 _And here I thought you were on my side_ …

Balthier started to trail after them, but Hope caught his eye. “Need a moment?” he asked.

Hope shook his head, but kept his gaze directed towards his feet. “I’m fine,” he snapped, then flinched. “I—sorry.”

“You’re exhausted, I understand, but I doubt that fool intends on stopping anytime soon.”

“He’s an idiot, that’s what he is.” Hope shook his head again and grumbled under his breath. “Let’s just go.”

“You sure you don’t need a moment?”

“I said I’m fine! Let’s _go_.”

—well. That could have gone better. Compared to Vaan and Penelo, and especially _Larsa_ , Hope was one of the moodiest teenagers Balthier had ever met. He might not have known the boy’s background, or why he was a victim of the Purge in the first place, but Balthier at least understood Hope had every right to be upset. It didn’t make things easier, no, but he understood. None of them wanted to be there—even Snow, despite him being the reason they were there in the first place.

He should have asked why Vanille had been so adamant to follow Snow into the Vestige, or why Hope needed to come with them. What were they after?

Nevertheless, Hope was right. They needed to keep going. There was nothing else they could do but follow Snow until they found his girl.

 

* * *

 

And found her they did.

They were halfway there when Snow spotted her. He immediately called her name, but Serah was completely unresponsive. She rested against a pillar, head bowed and hands in her lap, as if she were only sleeping. Balthier found himself hoping she was just asleep, because if she wasn’t—then it meant they were too late.

“No,” Snow said quietly, and he rushed down the stairs before Balthier could stop him. “Serah—baby? Hey, look at me!”

Again, there was no response. Serah was still breathing, but for how much longer? She was sickly pale, almost like a porcelain doll and just as frail. Her time was running out.

“Serah, _please_ ,” Snow begged. He took one of her hands in his own and squeezed it. “I—what can I do?”

“Get her out of here, for a start,” Balthier said, though he suspected that wasn’t the answer Snow was looking for. “There’s nothing you can do for her while we’re trapped in this place.”

Snow peered around the pillar and towards a massive closed doorway. “The fal’Cie…” His eyes lit up, and he moved to pick Serah up—

But just then, two other figures came running up the steps. The man struggled to keep up with the woman, grumbling to himself, but it seemed listening to him was the last thing on her mind. She had a piercing glare of determination, and a scowl that would make any man flinch. She had rose colored hair, just like Serah.

A sister?

The woman wasted no time and went to Serah, while the man stood off to the side, uncertain and uneasy. She regarded Snow with an almost hateful glare, and thankfully he knew better than to get in her way and moved aside, allowing her to take Serah into her arms.

“Sis—” Snow started to say, but the woman smacked his worrying hands away.

“I am _not_ your sister.” She pulled Serah closer, tucking the girl’s head under her chin. “I’ve got her. I’m taking her home.”

Not his sister? They certainly bickered like siblings. Balthier glanced between them, then back to Serah—and something caught his attention. Just below her left shoulder was a dark brand: an array of arrows sprouting from a single red eye.

“It’s your fault,” the woman continued, voice breaking. “It’s your fault she… that Serah…”

Serah stirred in her arms, and finally she opened her eyes. “Lightning?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

She spoke feebly, as if it took all her energy just to look up at her sister and smile, and Lightning—Balthier assumed that was her name—could do nothing but watch as Serah suffered in her arms. Snow, on the other hand, put up a brave face and grinned. To put Serah at ease. To let her know everything would be all right, as any optimist would do in their situation.

Vanille paused at Balthier’s side, then looked away.

“You’re both here,” Serah continued. She cringed as the brand on her arm started to pulsate. “It’s—all I wanted. I hoped… I hoped you’d find me. It’ll be okay now.”

But her whispered words meant nothing when the truth was right in front of them.

“Let’s get you out of here, Serah—” Lightning said, but her sister reached up and touched her cheek.

“No, y-you have to… I couldn’t do it, so you—” Serah cried out and curled in on herself, clutching her arm. After a moment, she relaxed and closed her eyes. “You can save us. Protect us all… Save—Cocoon.”

“Serah? What do you mean? Was that… your Focus?”

It seemed Serah didn’t have the strength to answer, but she smiled nonetheless.

“Whatever it takes, I’ll do it,” Snow said. “I’ll protect Cocoon! I’ll save everyone!”

Lightning glanced at him, frowning, then looked back down at her sister and forced a smile. “Somehow, I’ll make things right again.”

“—Thank you.”

Balthier averted his eyes just as a light burst from Serah’s brand. He heard Snow call out her name, but there was no use in trying to reach her now—not when she was already gone. The light faded, and everything went silent. After a moment, Balthier lifted his head.

It was as Vanille described: Serah had completed her Focus and turned to crystal. It encased her body like a coffin. Although, unlike a coffin, the shimmering crystal was far more beautiful—a beautiful, but tragic fate.

Moments passed in utter silence, until finally Snow spoke.

“Sweet dreams, Serah.”

Yet what was meant to be a gesture of comfort had the opposite effect on Lightning. She lurched forward and grabbed Snow by the collar of his coat, fury burning in her eyes.

“Sweet _dreams_?” she spat. “She’s not sleeping!”

“But she’s _alive_! Don’t you remember the legend?” Snow shook his head. “L’Cie who complete their Focus turn to crystal and gain eternal life… _Life_. She’s still alive!”

Every word that passed his lips wasn’t meant for Lightning. No, Snow was more or less trying to convince _himself_ that Serah was still alive. As long as he kept saying it, he could believe that Serah was still alive and could come back. Balthier pitied him—because he’d been the same way many times before.

_My father is not mad—_

_And neither is Ashe._

Balthier shook his head. Now was not the time.

“Serah’s my bride to be,” Snow continued. “I swore to stay by her side… to make her _happy_ … No matter what, I—”

“Quit it already!” Lightning shouted. “There’s nothing you can do that’ll bring her back! Just… Open your eyes and face reality!”

She raised her fist, ready to hit him, but her companion stepped between them before she could take another step.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said. “No need for that! Let’s just take a second and think about this!”

His attempt to defuse the tension between Lightning and Snow was admirable at best. It looked as if Lightning was ready to hit _both_ of them if it meant taking her anger out on something. Balthier sighed. That look in her eyes—that burning fury, the desire to _fight_ and take back what was rightfully hers. For a moment, he could have sworn he was looking at Ashe again.

“I’m not going to pretend I know much about you two,” the man said. “But I think your sister wouldn’t want you to fight about this.”

Mentioning Serah seemed to cool Lightning’s temper for the moment. She stepped back and looked down at her sister’s crystal, and soon all that anger faded from her face.

Something tugged at Balthier’s arm, pulling his attention away from her.

“What now?” Vanille asked, fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Where do we go from here?”

Hope grabbed Balthier’s other arm. “We can’t stay here! They’ll… they’ll kill us if we don’t get out of here!”

Two children clinging to him as if he were their father. Surely Fran would find this image amusing, were she there with him. Balthier pulled away from them and looked at the others, but he doubted they had any idea what to do, either. Finding Serah was their goal, and now she was gone. He didn’t expect Snow to leave her behind, but what else were they going to do?

And yet, as if to answer him, a door opened at the top of the stairs. All on its own. Balthier hadn’t truly believed everything he’d heard about the fal’Cie, but after what happened to Serah and now _this_ —he knew the gods of this world were up to something. _Up to no good, that’s certain_.

Snow bent down and touched Serah’s crystal. “I’ll be right back. Hold on.”

“W-wait, where are you going?” Vanille asked as Snow made his way towards the steps. “What… what about Serah?”

“I’ve got a date with the fal’Cie. Got some things to talk about.”

 _Oh, you absolute_ fool _._

“I’m not gonna stand here and wait around. If the fal’Cie did this to her, they can undo it. I’m not leaving until they bring her back.”

Balthier knew there was no convincing him otherwise once he’d made a decision. In the short time they’d been together, Snow had one thing on his mind: Serah. Losing her was simply out of the question, and he was willing to risk his own life to save her.

Without a word, Lightning brushed past Snow and marched up the stairs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” her companion grumbled, but he too followed her lead.

All the while, Snow stood there with hands clenched at his sides.

“Go on, then,” Balthier said. “I’ll watch your girl, Ice.”

“It’s _Snow_ ,” he replied immediately. “But thanks.”

And with that, he left as swiftly as Lightning. Balthier expected Snow to charge ahead and confront the fal’Cie, but he didn’t expect both Vanille and Hope to follow him without question. Vanille waved once before running up the stairs, and Hope trudged behind her with his head low.

 _Don’t go_ , he wanted to say. No good ever came from meddling with the gods, be it the Fates, the Occuria, or something worse. Balthier didn’t know what the fal’Cie were capable of, but if they could condemn an innocent girl to a terrible fate, then he wanted to stay as far away as possible.

But even if he wanted to go with the others, he couldn’t. As Balthier took a step forward, the massive door slammed shut.

“Left behind again,” Balthier murmured, grimacing. “One might think I’m making a habit of this on purpose.”

He glanced down at Serah’s crystal, then sighed.

“You could at least say something, you know.”

But it wasn’t Serah’s voice that answered. Somewhere in the distance, he heard it again: a bell tolling. Once. Twice. Suddenly a sharp pain lanced through his head, and Balthier doubled over. Gods—that _sound_. Again, and again, and again…

The floor crumbled beneath his feet, and he fell with a gut-wrenching jolt. Hand outstretched, Balthier shut his eyes—

 

* * *

 

And someone pulled him back up.

Balthier dropped to his knees and coughed, though the pain in his head didn’t subside. His vision swam, and he could scarcely make out the figure standing over him. A white blur … clenching something in its hands. Orange and gold and glowing so brightly in the darkness.

—Ashe.

“Princess,” he said. “It would seem you found me after all.”

She said nothing. He expected her to scoff and turn him away, but she stood as still and silent as a statue. Balthier wondered if it was really her, or if he’d conjured her up in his desperation for something familiar.

That stone in her hands, however, was the last thing he wanted to see.

Balthier pushed himself up from the ground and faced her. Ashe regarded him with a cold stare. He found it almost laughable how this illusion was so much like Ashe, but it also _wasn’t_. She had cold, grey eyes that looked right through him, and pale fingers grasping a glowing stone.

“Well, then… here we are.”

He wasn’t sure where they were, but he could no longer see Serah’s crystal. Or the door. Or anything, for that matter. There was absolutely _nothing_ around them; he even tapped his foot on the ground just to make sure he was standing on something. Only mildly disconcerted, he decided, for this must have been a dream.

“A dream,” he repeated. “Yes, perhaps this really is a mad dream… I suppose that means you’re here to wake me up.”

Ashe held out her hand to him. He could feel warmth radiating from her body, and he almost welcomed the feeling with open arms—had it not been for that damned _stone_. He felt sick and angry, frustrated and disappointed.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. I can’t.”

 _Not again_.

He turned away, but Ashe snatched him by the arm and pulled him towards her. _Not again_ , his mind cried. He couldn’t watch her fall prey to the stone’s call anymore. _Not again_. Despite his better judgment, Balthier opened his eyes and looked at her. Ashe reached up and touched his face, but her skin was as hot as an ember, moist and feverish.

“Please.” At last she spoke, yet—she didn’t sound like herself. Her voice was distorted, and she sounded so far away. “Trust me.”

 _Trust me_ , she said, but how could he trust her when she gazed upon that stone as one would gaze upon a lover? How could he trust her when every step she took was a step down the wrong path?

“See. Know.” She leaned closer, close enough that their lips brushed. “ _Understand._ ”

The darkness began to melt away. The scent of salt and sea water overwhelmed his senses as waves crashed against the shore, while Ashe—Ashe smiled. He rarely saw her smile. She was always so serious, so determined, but when he did catch her smiling…

He almost believed she would make the right choice.

“Listen,” she breathed. “Can you hear it?”

The waves, her heartbeat, _his_ heartbeat… and the bell. The bell tolled. Balthier turned his head toward the sound. It was calling to him. Beckoning him. _Run away_ , _run away_ , it said.

Ashe’s fingers lightly traced his jawline, but Balthier jerked out of her grip.

“—no.”

He stepped away from her, though the sad, sad look on her face almost made him reconsider. Almost. Balthier fell back into the darkness—and somewhere, the bell stopped tolling.


	4. as the dust clears

“—you okay?”

No, he was not _okay_. Balthier wanted to shout at whoever was that _stupid_ enough to ask him that, but words had failed him. All he could think about was how he was most certainly not _okay_. Everything was far from it.

He opened his eyes—and found himself staring up at none other than Lightning.

“Hey,” she said again, this time raising her voice. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he finally managed to say. His words came out slurred and muffled. “Need a moment.”

She scoffed and grabbed him by his collar, then pulled him up from the ground so that he sat upright. She turned his head side to side, presumably checking for any head wounds.

“You’re lucky we found you first,” she said. “PSICOM’s already on our tracks. We need to move.”

Lightning truly didn’t waste time. Within seconds she had Balthier on his feet, and with a wave of her hand she cast a small curative spell to clear his head. Wait—a spell? She used magick, he was sure of it. His head felt better already, though his neck was going to be sore for quite a while.

The world around them was nearly blinding. It was as if an ocean had been turned to ice, shining brightly even without the sun, waves towering over them. Balthier scratched at his neck and looked around until he spotted the others loitering underneath a crystal pillar.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The fal’Cie, in its last moments, crystallized Lake Bresha,” Lightning answered, already leading the way. “I guess it wasn’t willing to let its new pawns die that easily.”

“Pawns?”

She whipped around and gave him a fierce, hair-raising glare. “The fal’Cie branded us. We’re l’Cie. Do you get it now?”

 _Like Serah_ , he realized. They confronted the fal’Cie, hoping to bring Serah back, but instead they got themselves branded.

From where he stood with the others, Snow waved at them. Balthier immediately noticed the black mark on his forearm. The brand of a l’Cie. He remembered Serah had one just like it on her arm, but unlike her brand, there was no red eye staring back at them.

“Take it easy on him, sis,” Snow said. “He’s still learning.”

For once he was thankful for Snow’s interruption. Lightning must have been looking for someone to take her frustrations out on, and since the fal’Cie was nowhere to be seen, she had turned her eyes on Balthier. At least, that was the case. Snow seemed to be an easier target.

“I’m not here to baby anyone,” Lightning snapped. “He falls behind again, we’re leaving him. That goes for anyone. And don’t—” She brushed past Snow and shoved him aside. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your sister.”

Snow only sighed and let her walk away. The others began to follow her, with Vanille and Hope trailing the closest, while Snow and the other man kept their distance.

“Guess I’m not the only one that has trouble with women,” Snow said with a chuckle.

“I know my women well, mind you,” Balthier replied. “My men, too.”

“Sure you do—wait, what? What’s that supposed to mean?”

The other man cleared his throat, a small chocobo hovering over his shoulder. “If I were you two, I’d get moving before she loses her cool again.”

“But— _okay_ , okay,” Snow grumbled, then did as told. “The sooner we find Serah, the better. At least Lightning knows that.”

They followed Lightning on her determined march through the crystallized lake, though she was more than happy to leave all of them behind. All to find her sister, apparently. Balthier didn’t know what happened in the Vestige, or whether it was the fal’Cie that conjured up that image of Ashe—but what he did know was that Serah’s crystal was gone by the time he woke up.

Both Lightning and Snow should have prepared themselves for the worst, but doubt was the last thing on their minds.

“The name’s Sazh, by the way. Guess you were just a bit luckier than the rest of us.”

“Because I somehow evaded the fal’Cie’s clutches?” Balthier asked. “I’ve no need for their so called gifts. Magick comes naturally to me.”

“Yeah, that’s what Snow said. Something about you being from another world and what not,” Sazh replied, grimacing. “I thought he’d lost it, the way he kept sprouting gibberish at us.”

Balthier rubbed his forehead. “So he’s telling everyone now, is he?”

“Hey, Vanille’s been doing it, too!” Snow added, sliding between them. “I still don’t get it. I thought the fal’Cie might’ve made you a l’Cie, too.”

He remembered the illusion of Ashe and how she held out her hand to him, beckoning him towards her. How she’d kissed him and whispered in his ear. Was it—? No, it couldn’t have been the fal’Cie…

“I never was one to listen to orders,” Balthier answered.

“Even if your life was on the line?”

“You let someone get inside your head, and there’s no going back. I’d rather die as myself than a pawn.”

Snow’s pace slowed, and he turned his eyes to the ground. “Serah said that, too.”

He went quiet after that, and Balthier gladly welcomed the silence. It gave him time to think, to process everything that had happened since he woke up on Cocoon. Although the others threw around the words fal’Cie, l’Cie, and Focus as if they expected him to immediately understand, he was beginning to make sense of the world.

The fal’Cie made them l’Cie, much like Serah before them, and gave them some sort of task to complete before they either succumbed to their fate, or somehow overcame it. They had been granted otherworldly powers, but to Balthier they were now no better than any other mage. Were their worlds truly so different that magick was considered an oddity?

It was no wonder that Snow had been wary of him at first. He’d been raised in a world that claimed magick was a thing to be feared. It was a curse.

Lightning stopped suddenly, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. Behind her, Hope dropped to his knees and panted heavily.

“Can we… talk about this?” he asked.

She didn’t even look at him. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Everything! I don’t—I don’t understand what we’re supposed to do. Do we just do what the fal’Cie wants, or do we give up?”

“You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“We don’t have any freedom, not anymore!”

It was a good thing Vanille stepped between them, for it was beginning to look like Lightning intended on making the boy feel even worse about their situation. Her fingers rested on her gun, but she made no other moves. Perhaps she hoped threatening Hope would scare some sense into him.

“He’s right, though,” Vanille said. “Um… what did the fal’Cie show you, Lightning?”

Lightning crossed her arms. “A bunch of smoke and mirrors, that’s what.” She looked at Hope again, but her gaze softened enough that even Balthier noticed the sudden shift in her demeanor. “What about you?”

Hope flinched and looked the other way. “I think I saw a big… towering—” He paused. “I saw Cocoon, but it… Something happened to it.”

“Wait, wait,” Sazh interjected. “Are you saying we all saw the same thing?”

“Depends on how you interpret it,” Lightning said. “My guess is that a Pulse fal’Cie wants us to blow Cocoon to pieces. What else would it want?”

Balthier looked to Snow for an explanation, but the other man appeared to be lost in his own thoughts again. He had a blank look on his face, eyes wide as if he finally put the pieces together as well.

“Serah told us to save Cocoon,” Snow said. “Then she turned to crystal. She completed her Focus _right_ after she told us! It’s gotta mean something, right?”

No one answered.

“The fal’Cie gave her a Focus, and she beat it. Hell, maybe she gave it to us! Our Focus is to protect Cocoon, whatever it takes!”

“Bullshit,” Lightning spat. “Why would a Pulse fal’Cie, an _enemy_ of Cocoon, want us to protect it? I know what Serah said, but even you can’t believe that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

“I believe that’s what _Serah_ wants us to do.”

“Like hell you’d know what Serah wants!”

“I’m starting to think I’m the only one who does!”

Balthier grimaced at the sickening crack that followed. Lightning moved as quick as her namesake and punched Snow square in the face, knocking him off his feet. Blood trickled from his nose, but he did nothing but glare up at her.

“You don’t get to say that,” Lightning growled. “You don’t get to speak for her.”

And then she stormed off yet again, though this time Balthier doubted she wanted any of them to follow her. Unfortunately for her, they didn’t have much of a choice. Whether they wanted it or not, they were in this together—and the same went for Balthier. He simply had nowhere else to go.

As the others moved to join her, Balthier pulled out his handkerchief and held it out to Snow.

“Here,” he said. “Blood doesn’t suit your face.”

Snow took it and wiped the blood from his face, avoiding Balthier’s eyes. When he went to hand it back, however, Balthier shook his head.

“Keep it.”

“Er… thanks.” Snow got back to his feet and tucked the cloth into his pocket. “Lemme guess… you’re gonna tell me I should think before I open my dumb mouth.”

“She was being unreasonable,” Balthier said. “And so were you. I don’t blame her for losing her temper, but there’s not much I know about your relationship to reserve full judgment.”

“It’s a long story.”

“One that revolves around Serah?”

“She’s the one thing that brought us together. Serah wouldn’t want us to fight, but it’s hard not to when Light gets like… that.” He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye, even if it was for Serah’s sake.”

Balthier crossed his arms. “At least you have a common goal. The fal’Cie took Serah away from you, and now you want payback. Am I right?”

“That’s just what got us into this mess. You say I don’t think before I act, but neither does she. Not when she’s pissed off, I mean.” Snow began walking and motioned for Balthier to follow. “Come on. I’m not leaving her alone when she’s like this.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen her earlier. Probably would’ve killed me if PSICOM hadn’t shown up.” He whistled lowly. “Definitely don’t wanna be on the other end of her gunblade again.”

 

* * *

 

It began to feel like they were walking in circles. The crystallized waves started to all look the same, and each time Lightning stopped to consider where they were going, she turned to look at the others as if to ask for help. But as proud and stubborn as she was, she refused to say anything and continued on her way.

For a moment, Balthier thought he was looking at Ashe. She was also too proud for her own good, and it was rare that she came to her companions for help and advice. That was why Balthier took it upon himself to direct her towards the right path, and he hoped his words hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. He hoped she took his words to heart and made the right choice.

Of course, what did it matter now? She was so far away, and he had no idea how to get back to her. Back home, to Fran, Ashe, the others… He even found himself missing Vaan, as much as the boy infuriated him.

Nevertheless, he doubted Lightning would listen to him if he offered assistance. After all, he knew nothing about this place, and he knew even less about her personally. They were strangers. Out of all of them, Lightning had barely said more than a few sentences to him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Snow said, interrupting Balthier’s thoughts. “You’ve got that funny look on your face again. Your nose is all scrunched up.”

“I had no idea you paid such close attention to my face, Ice.”

“I’m not! I just noticed the way you’ve been staring at her. Sis, I mean.”

“Well, isn’t it normal for men to look towards their leader? Wherever she goes, we go.”

Snow snorted. “Doesn’t sound like something a guy that calls himself the leading man would do.”

“I don’t intend on taking the limelight at the moment, not when I know so little about this place. I’ve taken more of a supporting role for now.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“Oh, don’t I? Quite the contrary—I couldn’t be more relieved. I deserve a moment’s rest every now and then.”

Snow pushed his hands into his pockets as they walked. “The job must take a lot out of you, I guess. So is that how you spend the rest of your time? Saving the day and all that?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea. Not every leading man is a hero.”

“What?”

He had stopped walking, staring at Balthier in disbelief. Was he truly so delusional that he believed everyone had good intentions and a good heart? Balthier hoped Snow was smarter than to think that every _hero_ did the right thing, that they did what was best for everyone they loved.

But the truth was that Balthier was no hero. Not in anyone’s eyes, and most certainly not his own.

“Call yourself a hero all you want, I don’t mind,” Balthier said, brushing past him. “But someday you’ll realize it’s not what you expected it to be.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Balthier felt like laughing. _Of course you don’t._

“A hero is someone who does whatever they can to _save_ people,” Snow continued. “And that’s what I promised Serah. Whatever it takes, I’ll—”

He stopped, and his eyes widened.

“Serah?”

For a moment, Balthier thought Snow had gone mad, but then he turned around and saw it. Rather, he saw her—Serah. Her crystal had survived the fall, but it was now embedded within the crystallized Lake Bresha. Balthier barely turned back around before Snow nearly pushed him over and rushed to the crystal, leaving the rest of them in the dust.

Lightning, in particular, did nothing but stand there in silence.

“Serah,” Snow whispered, touching the crystal’s face. “I’ll get you out of there.”

Remains of air ships and the Vestige were scattered around the area, and Snow grabbed a pipe and began stabbing it into the crystal underneath Serah, but it did little good. Crystal was near indestructible, Snow had said so himself, and Balthier doubted he’d be able to free Serah that way. It was a waste of time, and time was not on their side.

Despite this, Sazh and Vanille joined him. Whether it was out of pity, or they genuinely wanted to help, Balthier wasn’t sure, nor did he really care.

“So the stories are true,” Hope said, pausing beside Balthier. “Even from a fall like that, the crystal is still…” He trailed off and looked down at his feet.

“I doubt it was sheer luck that saved her,” Balthier replied.

“Something did. She’s still alive, while… while my—” Hope clenched his fists at his sides, arms trembling. “Why would the fal’Cie save her and not anyone else?”

“Perhaps it wasn’t the fal’Cie that did it.” He thought of Ashe, or the thing that pretended to be her. “Perhaps there’s something greater at work here.”

Hope said nothing, and Balthier knew the conversation was over. He looked at Lightning again, still standing alone, a haunted look on her face.

“Not going to help?” he asked, but Lightning didn’t answer.

No—instead she turned around and began walking away.

“H-hey! Lightning!” Snow dropped the pipe and stood, and Lightning stopped in her tracks. “You’re just gonna leave her?”

“PSICOM is tracking us,” she said. “If they find us, we’re dead. You think Serah would want that?”

“If I leave her, then I’ll never know. But we’ll be fine,” Snow said, taking another step towards her. “Just leave it to me, sis. I’ll protect Serah—and Cocoon.”

Lightning whipped around, lips pulled back in a snarl. Had Balthier not grabbed her by the arm, she likely would have hit him again—or done something far worse. Magick crackled dangerously at her fingertips.

“Does she look protected to you?” she shouted. “Look at her, Snow! _Look at her!_ ”

“She’s still alive! Look, we just need to get her out of there, and then—”

“You don’t get it, do you? She’s not coming back! She’s not sleeping, or dreaming!” Lightning jerked out of Balthier’s grip and turned the other way. “She’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do to bring her back!”

“I don’t believe it!”

Back and forth, back and forth. Over and over. Snow would say one thing, and Lightning would say another, but neither of them were _listening_. If this was how they intended to deal with all their problems, Balthier wanted no part in it. He had more concerning matters at hand, and listening to these two argue was hardly his concern.

“Open your eyes already,” Lightning said. “It’s _over_.”

“No, it’s not!”

“What can you possibly do?”

“Whatever it takes!”

When they fell silent, Balthier welcomed it. He wandered off to the side and leaned against one of the crystal pillars, arms crossed at his chest. If Lightning was ready to leave, then he needed to come to a decision—and fast. She didn’t seem to be the type to sit around and wait for something to happen, and if she was willing to confront one fal’Cie for what it did to her sister, then she’d likely do it again. _Revenge_ , he realized. That was what Lightning was after.

As for Snow, all he wanted was to keep Serah safe. Despite his promises to honor her wishes and save their world, Serah would always come first. Fighting the ones who took Serah from him was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Just admit it,” Sazh said, breaking the silence, “you want to stay as much as he does.”

Lightning didn’t have a snappy answer for that. She still looked at Snow like she wanted to tear him limb from limb, but it appeared she’d changed her mind for the time being—unless Snow insisted on her staying.

But her mind was made up. Even Balthier could see it.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Snow asked, head bowed. “Do I just abandon her and save _myself_?”

“Look,” Sazh said, gesturing all around them. “Without the proper tools, we could be digging for days, and we don’t have that kind of time anymore. For now, we’ve got to look out for ourselves. For now!”

But Snow—the foolish, stubborn idiot he was—wouldn’t budge. Reasoning with him was out of the question, then. Lightning took a step toward him, hands on her hips.

“What happened to saving the world?” she asked tightly. “Protecting Cocoon? You can’t do that if you plan on dying here.”

With a scoff, she turned the other way.

“Snow? You’re nothing but talk.”

And then she was gone, no more than a dark figure disappearing behind crystallized waves. The others stood there for a while, and Sazh was the first one to follow. He offered Balthier a half-hearted shrug, muttered something to Snow about staying alive, and then he was gone, too.

The children, however, lingered a bit longer.

Snow did his best to put up a brave face for their sake and grinned. “You should probably get going,” he said. “You’ll be safe with Light.”

“But…” Vanille looked down at her feet, hands clasped behind her back. “About Serah…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get her out of there.”

“—Okay.” She kept her eyes lowered until she walked up to Balthier, and it was painfully obvious that she didn’t want to follow Lightning and the others. But what other choice did she have? “Balthier?” she said quietly. “I’m… I’m really sorry about this.”

His brows rose. “What for? I made my choice, just as you’ve made yours.”

“But I got you into this mess.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a story if the leading man wasn’t there to see it. Go on, then.” He nodded towards Hope, who had just brushed past Snow without saying a word. “Your little friend is waiting.”

“Wait—you’re not coming with us?”

Balthier shook his head. “I doubt I’ll find what I’m looking for wherever she’s going.”

“Then…” Vanille reached over and squeezed his hand. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Trouble usually finds me.”

She flashed a smile, and that was that. She took Hope’s hand in her own and waved one last time at Balthier, and soon it was just him and Snow. _And Serah_ , he thought grimly. Not that Serah was entirely aware of their presence, of course. Believing she was only asleep was the only thing that kept Snow going, and if that was enough to keep him going… _So be it._

A voice in the back of his mind screamed at him. _Go, you idiot. Go with them!_ It would have been the smartest choice to stay with the majority of the group, as there was definitely strength in numbers. Yet he couldn’t forget that look in Lightning’s eyes, the fire burning deep inside her.

She wasn’t lusting for power itself. No, it was destruction she was after—she wanted to _destroy_. To Balthier, she was no different than Ashe.

And that… terrified him.

“Not again,” he muttered. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

Snow either didn’t hear him, or he was lost in his own thoughts as he stood in front of Serah’s crystal. Balthier waited, and waited, and waited until he grew tired of it and spoke up.

“Not even a ‘thank you’?”

Snow finally tore his eyes away from Serah’s crystal. “For what?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m staying.” Before Snow could ask _why_ , Balthier raised a hand to silence him. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Uh… Thanks.” At this, Snow laughed quietly. “I guess.”


End file.
